


All I need

by RamblingPug



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Eremika - Freeform, Eremika Week, F/M, Sexual Content, family au, miscarriage tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RamblingPug/pseuds/RamblingPug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic features long time lovers Eren and Mikasa, their bid to make their own family, and in that process discovering what family really means. <br/>(Also feat. Some good ol' Eremika smut, some medical drama, and your weekly dose of heartbreak)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I need

They say that when the moon is full and bright, the wolves come out to howl and the lovers come out to play.

For an Eren and Mikasa it was an almost a celebrated tradition, something they never missed out on, diligently setting up residence on their terrace every full moon night, blankets and pillows in tow.

"Mmm," he nuzzled her, kissing idly along her neck, eliciting a small giggle from her. Her ticklishness had been a well-protected secret for most of her life and when Eren had finally discovered it, he was besotted.

His hands flit to the the curve of her abs, torturing her further, amazed that even the slightest brush against such taut muscle could send her into such a frenzy.

"... Oh god, Eren, I will _kill_ you..." She manages, in between peals of laughter, trying and trying to fight him, but he was a man on a mission.

But years of kickboxing had given her the agility and precision that he was far from mastering... And an advantage Eren could barely predict.

So with a move so fast he can barely register it, she has him flat on his back within seconds, straddling him gently.

"... Gotcha," she whispers, a smug grin tugging at her lips.

Eren's cheeks heat up a little at the sight of her, her blanket having slipped, pooling around her waist and revealing bare shoulders.

It was silly, after all the time they've spent together - despite the circumstances that had led to this bareness - that Mikasa's sheer casualness with her own nudity only made him blush harder.

She leans over him, skin against skin, her cold, wind-nipped nipples making Eren shiver when they rubbed against him.

"... You're cold," he complains, but wraps his arms around her anyway, throwing the covers over the both of them.

"Won't you warm me up, Eren?" She asks innocently, fighting back a laugh at her own cheesiness. But she rubs against him, her hips against his, and the instantaneous response of his body, a groan fighting past his lips, tells her he probably won't remember to make fun of her anyway.

"... I can't," he mumbles feebly, "... Not _again_ , Mikasa."

Because it was a miracle how he was still alive after Mikasa demonstrated a little while ago, just how _talented_ she was, at eating a _banana split_. He wants to - only God knows how badly - because she is nothing short of an angel, sprawled on top of him, the moonlight illuminating the delicate curve of her mouth.

But he was wrung out, his pleasure extricated so mercilessly from him, he was sure he couldn't live through another round.

He kisses her softly, a placation, a silent bid for mercy, to at least give him enough time to recover.

"You know," he murmurs, taking a lock of hair between his fingers, "I've always loved your hair long like this."

"... What?" She is genuinely surprised by this confession. "Then why'd you ask me to cut it all those years ago?"

"... Because it was attracting too much attention..." He mutters, not willing to offer anything more on the subject.

She chuckles, the pieces finally fitting into place. She'd never admit it, but jealous Eren was just too adorable.

"... Besides," he whispers, hands threading onto her hair, "its fun to pull."

She gasps when he yanks on it, pulling her head back and capturing her lips in a kiss. His other hand skims its way lower, cupping the curve of her ass.

"... I like it when you pull on it..." She confesses, her voice a stranger to herself, her breathing getting more and more irregular with each further probe of his fingers.

"You know," he murmurs, his finger dipping in places it's never ventured before, to somewhere that both of them have only wondered about silently, her eyes widening with equal amounts of arousal _and_ alarm, "... maybe we should try something diff," -

\- His fevered words were cut off by a loud wail, deafening and discordant through the night air.

"... What _is_ that?" She mutters, annoyed with the mysterious, shrieking entity that _dares_ kill her buzz.

He can't help but laugh, Mikasa was unbearable when frustrated. "I think that's our neighbour’s new daughter," he says, "she's quite the feisty one."

Sure enough she takes more than a few minutes to calm down, but the remnants of her ear-shattering wails still ring through Mikasa's eardrums. "Poor baby," he says, empathetically, "must be so hard for her to say what she wants."

Mikasa flops onto her side tiredly, annoyed with the fact that her boyfriend was sympathizing with a _baby_ , when she was the one frustrated from all the pent up arousal.

"... Poor _mother_ ," Mikasa emphasizes, "I wonder if she ever gets a good night's sleep."

"Aw c'mon, Mikasa," he continues happily, "It's easy to forget about sleep and other silly things like that when you have such a cute little thing in your arms."

She groans, burying her face in his shoulder. He was just too much of a softie.

"... Don't you ever want to have kids...?"

She blinks up at him, surprised. At twenty-one, the future still seemed a little scary to her, dreams always a little too bright to believe in.

She had trouble even believing the concept of forever, too dazed that after so many years of what she thought was a one-sided love, she was here, snuggled under the covers with him.

"... I guess. I don't know... Have you?"

"Of course," he declares, his eyes shining, like fresh morning dew on a green meadow, "I want lots and lots of kids! It'll be so much fun."

He wraps his arms around her, too wrapped up in his fantasy to see the look of uncertainty ghost over her features. But he pulls back anyway, looking at her sheepishly.

"... If that's okay with you, of course."

Her cheeks heat up at the implications of his words, her head still trying to wrap itself around this feeling that was undeniably _assurance,_ and all she can do is _nod_.

...

"Okay, _okay_ ," Jean slurs, clasping his bottle of beer like his life depended on it, "I understand why _Armin's_ going all out," he gestured to the big rock on Annie's finger, making Armin blush - like _he_ was the bride - "but it feels like you two have been married for _years!_ "

Connie laughs uproariously at this, the way he always does - even at jokes which aren't even the least bit funny - when he's drunk.

Mikasa just rolls her eyes and tunes out the rest of their over smart conversation. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be drunk at her own wedding party, but it was already late and this was like, the _millionth time_ she had caught Eren looking at her.

He laughed and chatted with the rest of them, but his eyes were drawn to her a little too often, his gaze distinctly dark and licentious, and it made her _hot_ in the all the places she _wasn't_ supposed to be hot in, at least not in _public_.

"... Alright," Eren says, standing up, "It's late, and I think I've had too much to drink, and my head's hurting,"

\- "And you want to go upstairs," Historia says with much sarcasm -

\- "And _deflower_ the bride," Ymir finishes, dramatically.

"... Who he _deflowered_ only a million years ago..."

That last remark sounded like Annie, but Eren was already leaving the room, markedly ignoring their jibes, a blushing Mikasa in tow.

"I think I have an Aspirin in my bag," she tells him, as soon as they enter the elevator, pressing for the twenty-fifth floor, "you can," -

\- "...I don't need one."

His fingers lace into hers, squeezing them gently as he edges her into the corner of the elevator.  "I was lying about the headache."

She flushed, embarrassed slightly that her friends had caught onto their act so easily. Looking up at him, she finds his eyes still trained on her, on her eyes, her mouth, her body, _everything_ , for some reason, and the heat in his gaze makes her unable to keep it.

"Quit looking at me like that," she mumbles, turning away from him.

Clasping her chin, he turns it toward him, wondering where in the world her damn modesty was sprouting up from - _she_ was the perpetual tease in this relationship - but maybe it was just wedding nerves, and shy Mikasa was having an unbelievably _arousing_ effect on him.

"It's not my fault," he says, slowly, his words caressing her lips, "I've been thinking about how beautiful you look in this dress _all evening._ "

His hands skin the curve of her body, pulling her hips flush with his, letting her feel just how much of an effect it's actually had on him.

Her breath hitches when she can feel him, pressing into her, hard, _aching_.

"... I've been thinking it'll look even better on the floor," he whispers, pressing a wet kiss to her ear, his words sending delicious tremors down her body.

"But that's still," she turns to look at the elevator display, " _nineteen_ floors away, Eren."

"Well," - he tugs sharply on the front of her strapless garb, freeing her breasts - "I'm not sure I can wait that long."

He skims over the tops of her breasts, pausing to tug at one of her aching tips, his mouth crushing hers, stealing the gasp that falls from her lips.

It's their wedding night, he's tipped room service for some scented candles, and he _knows_ he should take this slow, take his time with her and make this night something to remember.

But now, looking at her in his arms, thrusting her breasts into his abrasive touch, lips swollen from his kiss, he can think of nothing more than tearing this damn dress off of her and having his way with her right here, in the elevator.

And judging by her actions he suspects she wants nothing less, her hands busying themselves with his zipper, reaching for him while he was caught in his deliberation.

It's embarrassing the way he's leaking onto her hand - like he's a teenager seeing a woman for the first time - the way his hips thrust so eagerly into every jerk of her hands, slick, so lubed up and ready for her, that it would be so _fucking easy,_ to just bunch up her dress and bury himself within her but -

"Shit," he curses, mentally berating himself, "I don't have a condom."

_Fuck it,_ she thinks, unable to handle the wait, reaching over to press the elevator's red 'stop' button, and besides, she distinctly remembers a conversation from a few years ago, of a twenty one year old Eren gushing over ‘having lots and lots of kids'.

"It doesn't matter," she rasps, pupils blown to a thin grey ring, guiding him to her, "We're married now."

...

"Surprise!"

Sasha flounces into the room, jumping on Mikasa, tackling her to the floor with a bear hug.

"Ow," she mumbles, unable to breathe under Sasha's weight on her belly, "getoffmeplease."

"... I missed you," Sasha squeals, too caught up in her excitement to notice the growing bluishness of Mikasa's face, "The Alps were _beautiful,_ It was the most perfect honeymoon ever!"

Mikasa sputters an indecipherable response.

"... And I got you guys so many chocolates...!"

"... _Sasha,"_ Mikasa croaks, as loudly as possible, and she finally notices.

"... Oh _shit."_

_..._

Ten minutes later, when Mikasa was seated on the couch, and Sasha was finally done fussing over her, Mikasa unwrapped one of the bars of chocolate Sasha had gotten them from Switzerland.

"... I'm fine," she grumbles, munching on the chocolate, "I'm pregnant... Not _sick._ "

"... Yes I know, but you still gotta be careful!"

Like it was _not_ Sasha's fault for knocking her to the floor.

"Anyway," she continues, "how many months along are you now?"

"It's been four months," Mikasa replies, patting her belly gingerly, a little bit of pride seeping into her voice.

Sasha looks at her, doing that thing where eyebrows furrow a little, the way it does when she's thinking something but doesn't know if she should say it or not.

"... Spit it out."

"It's nothing really," she mumbles, fidgety, "it's just... You guys _just_ got married. Don't you think it's a little too soon?"

Mikasa shrugs. It didn't really matter to her, not much apart from the fact that her belly had put a dampener on her yoga lessons.

"... We've been together so long... So it doesn't really feel too soon or anything."

"Oh well, if you're happy then... Can't really imagine Connie and I with a child though."

Mikasa snorts, _"..._ Don't worry. I can't either."

"... You should see Eren though... He's over the moon. He's always wanted children."

Sasha nods, everyone knew what a sucker Eren was for babies.

"It's amazing though," Sasha says, reaching out to touch Mikasa's belly, "you look so different like this... Without your abs." She giggles. "... So _round._ "

...

Eren sat on the bed, typing feverishly on his laptop, trying to finish up his weekly column for Sports Illustrated.

"Hey, Mikasa, could you please," -

_Turn the fan on,_ was what he was going for, but seeing his wife standing in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, he was puzzled.

"... _What are you doing._..?"

"... Sasha said I've become _round_..."

She says it like it's a dirty word, her eyes not lifting from her scrutiny of her reflection.

Eren sputters out a laugh, choking back the word, _Obviously._

Mikasa glares at him. "What's so funny?"

"... Nothing, love," he murmurs, walking up behind her, his arms folding around her, kissing her sweetly, "I was just wondering why I never noticed."

...

He never understood why men cribbed so much about spooning. He thought it was a wonderful concept. A little bit of soreness for the wonderful feeling of his wife pressed against him, in his opinion, was an extremely fair bargain.

Especially now, with her belly swelling beautifully, he liked caressing her, liked holding her protectively, and sometimes when the baby kicked, his breath caught in dazed wonder.

She whimpers in her sleep, and Eren woke slightly, moving to caress her softly. As much as he was excited about the baby, he didn't like the discomfort she had to deal with, the pain when the baby decided to play rough in the night.

"It's alright, love," he mumbles in his sleep, trying to soothe a groaning Mikasa, his fingers drifting to her lower belly in a practiced motion.

But instead of her soft, smooth skin, he feels something wet, something slippery, drenching the fabric.

He sits up. "... Mikasa?"

She doesn't wake, only continues to whimper softly.

Hating this feeling of being blind to her discomfort, he flicks on the bedside lamp.

"... Hey, are you," - he turns her over, wanting to get a better look at her, "... Oh _God."_

It's a good thing he has the ambulance on speed dial, because when they ask him what the problem is, he is barely coherent.

"... It's my wife... She's bleeding..."

"... She's carrying a child... Please, _quickly..."_

His fingers shake as he tells them the address, trying to wake her up, but she won't, and all he can see is the blood, thick, damp, drenching the sheets.

...

"... Eren...?"

Annie stills on top of him, annoyed that Armin even picked up the call. Best friend or not, it was _3\. Fucking. AM. Whatever it was, it better be important._

She watches Armin's eyes grow wide with concern and she listens closer.

"... _Taking her to the hospital._.."

"... Fuck." The number of times she's heard Armin swear outside of sex was too few.

"... _There was so much blood_..."

"I'm coming."

Annie got up quietly and dressed, realizing from the way Armin's voice shook, that he was in no position to drive.

Being a doctor, she had a pretty good idea of what had transpired, but she hoped, for Eren's sake, that she was wrong.  

...

Armin and Annie were there when the doctors gave them the news.

"The good news," said the good doctor, "is that your wife is fine. You can take her home in the evening."

Eren visibly relaxed, the creases from his face disappearing instantly. "Oh, thank God..."

But Annie knew how doctors worked, and that from his tone, there was definitely more left to be said. "... And the bad news?" She asked.

The doctor tensed, giving her a look for asking so bluntly.

"Your wife has had a miscarriage, Mr. Jaeger."

It was a good thing Armin was there to hold him, because his vision swam when he heard the words.

"Can I," - his throat hurt to even speak - "Can I see her, please?"

The doctor looked uncertain, but agreed anyway. "But remember to be delicate, Mr. Jaeger. She's in a vulnerable condition."

...

All his life, Eren had always _admired_ Mikasa, for her strength, her mental fortitude, her ability to give _him_ strength... The list went on.

Slowly the admiration had turned _adoration,_ and that, to love. Even now, there was still a part of Eren that watched her with respect.

But seeing her now, so frail on the hospital bed, felt like a thousand knives stabbing his pained heart.

She gives him a small smile as he walks towards her.

"... Hey, you," he whispers, dropping to his knees and taking her hand. "... You feeling okay?"

She felt sore, her head felt like it was going to split, they had given her meds for all the other pain... But most of all she felt _empty_.

But she doesn't say anything, just nods. She didn't have the _right_ to.

He rests his forehead against hers, smelling in the scent of her, now mixed with the smell of medication, and he feels the tears prick his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, closing her eyes, hot tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Shut up," he says, the anger glimmering through his tears, because he has a faint suspicion as to what she was apologizing for, and he feels like a downright asshole for making her feel like she needed to.

"... Don't you ever apologize for something like this ever again."

...

It's two years before they manage to put it past them, the guilt, the worry... The _fear._

And when Mikasa walks back home with the blood test report, a happy flush rests on her cheek.

"It's positive," she tells him, and even though something inside him trembles, threatening to bring up images of _that_ night, Eren feels the rush of hope, a tentative grin spreading on his face.

...

"... Why are you still here?" The disbelief is blatant on her features, as she walks out of the room, stifling a yawn.

"... Oh you're up," he turns to place a swift kiss on her mouth before turning back to his eggs, "I just thought I'd make you some breakfast."

As much as she loved Eren's cooking - he could give Masterchef a run for their money - she was starting to feel suspicious of his increasing hours at home.

Come to think of it, he had made breakfast yesterday as well, _and_ lunch. _And_ dinner.

"... Aren't you late for work?"

"I'm working from home."

She narrows her eyes. "... And how long will thisgo on for?"

He cringes. He knew she wouldn't approve of this. "... A while."

"... Till the delivery date... Or maybe even a couple of months after. I haven't decided" -

" _Eren_ ," she says harshly, "I don't need you to stay home and take care of me."

It comes out a little surly and mean but he knows that Mikasa just hates to depend on others. Even if it was her own _husband._

But despite the fact that they didn't talk about about the miscarriage anymore - he wasn't blind to the way Mikasa deliberately avoided any and all talk on that subject - that day had been nothing short of a nightmare for him, and we would climb mountains not to see her in that state again.

So he takes her into his arms, brushing the long bangs out of her face. "I know you don't _need_ me to stay, love," - he kisses her softly - "but I'd _really_ like to stay home with you... And pamper you a little bit."

He gives her a little wink, and gestures to the counter and she sees a stack of hot pancakes, a jar of freshly made maple syrup sitting right beside it.

Her mouth waters at the very sight of it. "... Just when _did_ you wake up to make all this?"

He just grins in his adorable lopsided manner, the way that he does when he's _trying_ to be modest but the gratitude is really getting to his head.

"Thanks," she whispers into his chest, squeezing him into a hug and hating the way her swollen belly prevents her from being able to feel him completely.

"... Careful," he murmurs, holding her guardedly, mindful of her tummy, and she glares at him.

"... You don't have to treat me like I'm made of glass, you know..."

He chuckles, his eyes shining with mirth. "Is that so, Mrs. Jaeger?" He moves up behind her, pressing her gently against the counter.

She can feel his breath tickle her ear as he whispers sinfully, "... _Then bend over_."

...

There is a really common mistake committed by the people committed to finding happiness : They think their nightmares will _actually_ go away.

But they never go away... And just when you think they're gone, they come back with teeth and claws.

...

She gasps as he runs the loofah over her breasts, the wiry material scratching the tips of her oversensitive breasts.

"I like how this pregnancy has changed you," he whispers, kissing the side of her jaw, running the loofah over her again and again in the same spot, delighting in the response he gets from her.

She sits spooned against him in the bathtub, bubbles drifting around them.

Rolling her eyes, she says, "... You men are just obsessed with big breasts..."

"... Can't deny _that_."

She laughs at his blatant admission, moving back to rub against him, enjoying the groan when she feels him stir.

"... So predictable," she teases.

"And yet," -  He stops abruptly when he feels Mikasa tense, the muscles in her shoulder bunching tight, a small groan escaping her mouth. "... Mikasa? What's happening?"

He can hear her panting, her body bending over, clutching at her belly.

"... It's hurting, Eren..."

And then right in front of his eyes, the water turns crimson.

...

He had hoped, _prayed_ , every single day, that they would never have to be here again. Not here, where there was only heartbreak, and fear, and the gut-wrenching feeling that something had happened to her... _Again_.

This time, she sobbed freely, open, honest cries torn from her throat.

"... I don't understand... I did _everything_ right..."

He strokes her hair, letting her tears drench his shirt, hiding his own from her because he needs to be her strength right now.

"... I just wanted to make you happy, Eren..."

He squeezes her tight, kissing the top of her head, his tears falling freely on to her scalp now. "You do," he whispers, choked, his heart breaking at her words, " _You make me the happiest man alive."_

...

3 months later :

"... Are you sure about this?" The urologist asks from above him, shining an uncomfortable light on to his face.

He gulps, eyeing the shiny implements nervously, laid out on the table. _Why the hell did he have to be awake for this procedure? Couldn't they just put him under or something?!_

"Yes," he says, squeezing his eyes shut, just wanting to be done with this as soon as possible.

"... You'll never be able to have a child. You're only thirty years old, You can still change your mind" -

"I know what a Vasectomy is, Doctor," he says, tone clipped, "let's just get this over with."

...

Eren, like any other husband out there, is an absolute disorganized mess without his wife, and one day, a couple of months later, when she's - grudgingly - rearranging his closet, she stumbles upon a green folder, with Brooke Hospital printed on top, the name Eren Jaeger visible through the front, dated three weeks ago.

She's flips it open, confused because that's not the hospital she goes to, and she and Eren have been going to the same one for the past ten years.

It takes her a few minutes to understand the medical gibberish but when she does, her fists clench at her side.

"Hey, Mikasa," he says, walking into their bedroom, "Were you able to find that shirt I was looking for...?"

His voice tapers silent when she sees what she's holding up, swallowing nervously.

"... Care to explain this?"

He knows that there's no point beating around the bush, and even without seeing the hurt expression on her face, he knows he's betrayed her, taking a step on his own that he should've talked to her about.

But he had a faint suspicion that she would be upset, and now, judging by her reaction he was right.

"... I just," - he couldn't even _look_ at her - "I just didn't want to go through that all over again."

She could've lashed out on him in any number of ways, saying it was _her_ that always had to go through it, not him, and that it was _her_ choice, but she just _had_ to know; he wasn't sure he could survive looking at her like that again, bloodied and broken, both inside and out.

She composes herself, wearing the mask of impassiveness that has become almost like second skin to her, and says coolly, "... Well, it doesn't matter."

She pauses, hesitating before giving him the news, bracing herself for the explosion, "I'm pregnant."

...

It's been seven months and some spare change, the baby's alive and kicking - no, literally - and Mikasa is radiant, a pink flush evident on her gently rounded body.

Eren's been in a constant state of hypertension, giving himself a heart attack almost every time Mikasa looks like she'll trip.

"My balance is _fine_ , Eren," she assures him, knowing fully well that it will do naught to assuage his endless worries, "I just walk funny because of the extra weight, that's all."

"Anyway," she slides up next to him in bed, "I feel like it's been forever since you've touched me..." She pouts, "... I _miss_ you."

He gathers her up in his arms, kissing her passionately, his tongue running delicately along the outlines of her lower lip. "I miss you too, love," he murmurs, stroking her cheek tenderly, "but it's just... We've done so well till now, I just don't do something stupid and mess things up."

Seeing her so utterly, thoroughly dejected, he kisses her again, to ease his frustration and hers.

"... But after forty-five days, you'll need a restraining order to get my hands off of you."

...

"... Eren? Could you come here for a sec...?"

He appears at her side dutifully, within seconds.

"Yes, my lady?" He teases, but she doesn't smile.

"Can you feel the baby?" She asks, placing his hand on her lower belly, at the place where it's usually most ruthless.

He moves his hand around, trying to feel the activity she's talking about, but he can't feel anything. "Umm..."

"I can't feel it either," she whispers, and he sees fear rampant in her beautiful grey eyes.

"Maybe the baby's just sleeping, love..."

" _Eren_ ," she emphasizes, her panic growing, "I haven't felt anything for the past few _hours_."

Cold dread crashes through him.

"Take me to the hospital, Eren, _please_..."

...

He knows what he's doing is wrong, but he can't seem to stop the snarl that rips from his throat. "I _told_ you this was a bad idea..."

"... I begged you to just have an abortion, Mikasa, and you wouldn't listen... Maybe we just weren't destined to have a child... Do you really have to be _dead_ before you figure that out?"

Because that was his ultimate nightmare, that after one of these hospital visits, he would have to return alone, without _her_.

Her sobs are panicked, fear being the only emotion she can feel right now, fear for her baby, and fear seeing the way Eren's driving, furious, _rash_.

"... I just wanted to give you the family you always wanted..."

He jerks into the hospital parking space, pulling up the hand brake harshly. "Goddammit, Mikasa," he cries, clasping her face, and she can see a different fear ghosting across his features. "... You're the only family I want..."

A tear streams down his cheeks. "... You're the only thing I _need_..."

...

By the time Armin makes it to the hospital, Mikasa's already been rushed into surgery.

"... The placenta had wrapped around the baby's neck," Eren tells him, eyes vacant, "It was unable to breathe."

"She's going to be okay," Armin murmurs, rubbing his back as he buried his face in his hands. Because Armin knows that every time they come to the hospital, every time he sees Mikasa unconscious on that white, antiseptic bed, it takes something out of Eren, a little portion of his life, his hope, the force that glimmered in his eyes.

...

"We have good news, Mr. Jaeger."

The doctor smiled brightly, rousing him from his dark cloud at the corner.

"How's my wife?"

The doctor continues, dismissing his question completely. "You've just become a father. Congratulations."

But Eren wasn't listening.

"... My wife?"

The doctor frowns. "There were some complications... She's lost of blood," -

"The _details,_ Dr Carlson," says a voice, brusque, and Eren turns to see Annie, in her white coat, a stethoscope dangling from her neck, "and I will be scrubbing in, if you don't mind."

The elderly doctor glares at her, but she doesn't budge, just gestures for him to get back to the OR. "... Brain function?"

"It's feeble," Eren hears him say, as they had back, "we're still waiting on the blood..."

...

Four hours later, Annie rushes out of the OR.

"...She's stable," she murmurs, and when Eren hugs her, she does her best to not push him away, patting him gently on his back.

"Can I...?"

She nods. "She's in room 410..." - Eren rushes off before she can even complete - "But it might be a while before she wakes up."

...

At the age of thirty, trifled with back problems and his first ever grey, tears still rush to Eren's eyes when he's upset. He's learnt to control them with age, of course, but after the events of today, his nerves just can't take it anymore, the breakdown is imminent, seated by the side of Mikasa's cold, sleeping form.

Shame still exists in some subconscious part of him, but it is dead now, as he _bawls_ \- like a goddamn baby - sorry for yelling at her before he brought her here, sorry for even telling her in the first place, all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a child, that he wanted kids.

...

He wakes to the sound of gentle crying, soft cooing that blended with it, like the warm shades of sunlight melding into each other.

"... Sssh, sweetheart, you're gonna wake up Daddy... The nurse said he was awake the whole night, so we're gonna let him sleep okay?"

Well he'll be damned if they thought he was going to sleep _now_.

"... Mikasa?"

She smiles up at him, and she looks so radiant, happiness beaming out of her, like an angel, with a dark ebony halo spread out behind her, that he thinks she might be able to efface his anguish after all.

He looks at the little bundle, probably only slightly bigger than his hand, the tiniest pair of brown eyes, and little lilliput fingers waving up at him.

"...Carla," Mikasa whispers, kissing her softly on the cheek, "say hi to Daddy?"

 - Fin - 

**Author's Note:**

> send me those hate messages @ ramblingpug.tumblr.com


End file.
